I Am Amelie, The Daughter Of Bishop
by sydneysages
Summary: Drabble. Amelie sees the ruthless and violent side of her and contemplates this in terms of Sam and Morganville. Don't think there are any Bite Club spoilers as mainly written months ago, in January R&R


**I don't own anything**

**Ok… well, this fic will only show the way Amelie is becoming in Bite Club, as it is entirely her perspective and shows her emotions for Sam and how she wishes she wasn't the way she was… if ya don't wanna know how she behaves in Bite Club (sort of), don't read.**

**The worrying thing is that I wrote the first 700 words of this fic in January, but had to stop because of exams, then forgot about it…I always thought that perhaps Amelie isn't the ice queen she thinks she is and shows the world…**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy xD**

_Amelie's POV:_

Violence is second nature to me, killing a necessity as I grew up as a young vampire with my father's influence being the only thing I had. I _wanted_ to be like him, no matter how much it sickens me to think of this side of me now… he was the only role model I had since my mother died, and I wanted him to love me. I wanted to do anything to ensure that he would be proud of me, that I would live up to his expectations.

Very few people know that in the past, before Morganville, I was not this perfect Ice Queen; I was not calm and collected, ensuring that my temper does not get the better of me: this is a façade I created for what I felt a ruler ought to be like… in reality, I am hot tempered, rash and do not care for anyone besides myself. I am, rather I _was_, selfish and if something will negatively impact on me, I don't do it.

Yet as time passed and I settled into this role as Founder, the ice sculpture who doesn't show her emotion, I began to embrace it. It stopped me hurting, it prevented the pain from the past affecting me any longer – I began to _love _it! Well, not that, but rather the idea that I had managed to make myself perfect.

Why did I choose to be cold and perfect, people ask me – in particular Oliver and Myrnin, who seem shocked at how I am. You see, I wanted out. I wanted out of this disgusting person I had become – someone who killed when they wanted to, someone who was merciless and had no qualms. I wanted to have a conscience… people who came to Morganville were shocked when they saw what I had become, since the only way they had ever seen me before was wild and out of control, truly my father's daughter.

The only reason I am partially glad he was my father is because it meant I possessed the strength, the knowledge, in which I needed to kill him. it meant I could be the one to destroy him, as I realised no matter _what_ I did, he would never love me: I was simply a pawn to him, something he could use but would discard as easily as his hunt for his next meal. He didn't love me and I doubted that he ever had. So I put the skills he taught me – the utter lack of regard for human life, the knowledge how to destroy one of our kind without question - to use and destroyed him.

I thought that when I founded Morganville, when I made myself as far away as possible from what he had made me, I had managed to lose this disgusting side of me. I thought that as time passed I _became_ this façade, that I managed to hide my weaknesses and such to the world – they would only see this perfect, confident, mysterious, Founder and not the violent monster I once was. They did and as the time went on, I settled into the role, feeling more and more of the violent side of me sink into oblivion.

When I met Samuel, he never knew that I was as rash and hot tempered as he was – he simply saw perfection. I could never reveal this other side of me for fear that he would realise I was _just_ like all the other vampires he hated and he would leave me. When we fought my father, I felt that this was coming up, rising from the ashes so to speak, and I fought to quash it, to keep my ice cold mantra alive. Yet when I threatened Claire, I knew then that it was back: I may have been able to hide it but when my father was around, I became just like him. I could fight to remain perfect and distant but it was a struggle.

Yet when Samuel died, I fell apart. I became _both_ sides of me at once: this distant and ice cold woman but one who didn't care who she hurt, including herself this time, in her quest for revenge. I became someone who would act much more rashly in terms of Morganville than I did before, and I found it was some sort of release from the pain his death caused. Whilst it may not have been perfect, whilst pain still hits me to this day, it helped me.

But as I look in the mirror now, all I see is the monster. It is in my face, my eyes hungry for the chance to attack someone, to take their life effortlessly, to allow myself to set loose for _one_ minute. I see the power thirsty vixen that destroyed every single enemy she ever faced, damning the consequences to people on her side. I see the side of me that I never wanted Samuel to see, and I fear to this day that he did and he truly hated me on the inside.

If he did, could he forgive me? If he did, could he forgive my lies about being something I can see _quite_ evidently now that I am not? Could he not recognise that I _truly_ am my father's daughter, as ruthless and destructive as he is, underneath?

Did he still love me?

Every day, I feel that he died for me, that he died to ensure that my father did not kill me – which he would have done, if I was the only one there. But now I recognise this other side of me, this damning vampire who has no qualms or regrets, did he simply die for Morganville? Have I been selfish and so egocentric to assume that he did it for me, when in fact it could have been for his grandson, for Claire, for _anyone_ in this town but me… he could have died hating me, but I will never know. He is dead and now I can never speak with him again.

Oh, it would be so easy for me to release the monster inside of me, destroy Morganville and be able to live my life once again freely, without concerns for others. Yet there is Samuel – I will never be rid of his influence on me, and I will never _truly_ stop being the Ice Queen I was when I was with him.

So I restrain the urge to crack the mirror, remembering the old wives tale about seven year's bad luck – I don't have the need for _more_ bad luck. As I walk from the bathroom, I formalise my posture and ensure I am perfect down to the last hair. I cannot afford to release this demon inside of me; I must keep Morganville – Samuel died for it, if not for me. I cannot let his memory, his dying legacy, be wasted.

If I remain entirely perfect, it is for Samuel.

**Soo… please tell me whatcha think of this drabble.**

**I went back through and edited the first half or so, which I wrote like three months ago, so I hope it flows and you cannot tell the difference between the last part which I finished with.**

**Please review xD**

**Vicky xx**


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